


Close Proximity

by kuriyamimizu (nachttour)



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Frottage, Gunplay, M/M, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-07 20:18:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11631129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nachttour/pseuds/kuriyamimizu
Summary: Post Endless Waltz, Trowa Barton and Chang Wufei are engaged in a mission of subterfuge on a purchased colony world. Posing as lovers the two have infiltrated their target's home, to find an unexpected ally behind enemy lines and a growing attraction between the pair of them.(Prompt fic: gunplay, mission fic, super fun rarepair)





	Close Proximity

  **[ 4 ]**

 

There is a hole inside of him. All attempts to fill it, all the tidbits and trappings of a man who has a clear vision and sense of purpose elude him. Standing back to the boards in the circus with Catherine was the closest that Trowa felt to real - a body with a mask set out to amuse the masses. The truth was never kind but neither was he.

he fact that Wufei is not kind either is what draws him. Wufei will not lie and he cannot compromise, and all of that energy draws him like the heart of a star gone nova. Wufei Chang is a fire contained in the casing of a man. All of that heat and retribution blaze in his affect and actions. If one were to try and step through that fire, they would arrive clean and pared down to the essentials. There is a masochistic streak him that wanted to jump into Wufei - into his life and affairs and see what would be left at the end.  For a man made of layers and layers of colored paper, each forming a different face, the resulting blaze surely would be spectacular.

While Sally explained that they would work together, he watched her for a long while over the coffee-table. Age settled gracefully on her - a conquering queen’s cloak rather than a shroud covering her light and presence.

“Are you sure that we’re the right team for this?”

The knowing look in his superior officer’s eyes should have been enough, but he needed to be certain. Her reply was measured and firm. “I know that the two of you are right for this task. It requires fast-thinking, absolute confidence and precision. The two of you are the most capable out of our remaining group.”

Yuy had left after the incident with Mariemaia. Winner returned to his colony, supporting the Peacecraft regime in their endeavors at bringing about utopia. The ideal was never one that Trowa could cling to. The reality of bruises, of old infrastructure and the greed of people sat too heavily in his own mind. With boots on the ground and his head in the game he saw the world in its nuance - it was too big to be contained within simplistic ideals. Good on them for trying - he would support them until he had no more strength to keep moving forward. Maxwell had disappeared as he was wont to do - likely hidden in a pile of parts and with Schbieker. They were two of a pair - colony brats like himself used to existing in a mix of too-close people and constantly-failing electronics.  He wished them well.

Chang had lost the confidence of a fair chunk of the Preventers staff over the Dekim incident-- it would take time to regain that lost social capital. In his opinion there was nothing to forgive. One had to follow the understanding granted by experience and instinct.

“When do we leave?” Knowing their support staff all of the details available would be provided.

Sally steepled her fingers and smiled. “Tonight. You’ll be heading out to Astrix-5x, the colony that’s a little further out from the L5 debris-cloud. It is a staging area to the small world it orbits. Technically it is a terraformable moon - but there is a family living there that you will be joining.”

*

His fingers trailed carefully along the shoulders of Wufei’s jacket. Smoothing out imagined imperfections he cupped the points of his shoulders, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

“I really think that you look better in Hanfu.”

The subtle narrowing of Wufei’s eyes in response was all that he received for his trouble. Idly the list of things that he could do in proximity to Wufei scrolled through his mind. Various holds, ways to slide and shift their weight to pin him. If it were required he could torque his grip and end his copilot’s life. None were actions that needed completion. His hands were unused to being gentle. Humans were savage things, full of fear and ambition. Every instruction of his life to the present moment had been to that point.

“We are going to be late. Later than the implications that we are intending.” Wufei did not attempt to escape his hold, adjusting the rings he had donned for the evening. It was obvious at a glance that he was not comfortable wearing jewelry. At least Trowa could count on him to show restraint when out in mixed company.

“Of course.” Trowa found himself hesitant to remove his palms from the warmth of Wufei. Still, he slipped his hands free, turning to adjust his tie in the mirror. The colonial families tended to be more modernist in their party dress, so at least he did not have to put on a cravat.

*

The flute of champagne that settled in next to his hand on the balcony rail proceeded the person presenting it. Wufei settled along Trowa’s right side. The multicolored lights of the party reflected in the carefully brushed mass of his dark hair and glinted along the rims of the glasses he had chosen to wear. The lenses were simply clear glass, but he used the prop with all of the acumen that Trowa would expect. Adjusting them along the bridge of his nose Wufei hummed lightly.

“The suit doesn’t really fit your image, does it?” Sotto-voiced and amused, Trowa took the offered glass with a measured pause. Just enough to seem slightly rude to those who might be watching, but not long enough that it would be awkward. There _were_ people watching, and this moment caught in the dark was as staged as the rest of their duration at the Werstein estates

“The suit is a better costume for the role I am playing.”  Wufei’s lips brushed along the delicate skin of his earlobe, causing a cascading shiver of nerves between his shoulders. It was work to show that it affected him. The person that he was pretending to be had facial expressions and normal reactions to stimulus. Their proximity served a dual-purpose. Between the background noise of the guests and the ambient crash of the surf outside any audio-taps would be hard pressed to pick up their conversation. Secondly, it added to the image of the two gentlemen friends who served as diplomatic envoys for the United Colonial Stellar Trade Association, who might be more than that. There were rumors swirling and the pair of them were doing their best to fuel them with laughing denial or flirtatious entandres.

“Beyond that, maybe you are not the man I’m seeking to impress.” Glancing edgewise through his lashes Wufei left him to the wan starlight. Stepping away he moved through the crowd with the grace of the aristocrat he pretended to be. His cover was was a monied child of the colonies, doing his due time in the peace corps before settling into a wealthy life and settling in with an arranged fiance. Trowa’s own cover ran in a complementary vein: a trust fund baby estranged from his family due to a few indiscretions and turned back to a proper path again. With the help of his dear and bosom companion of course.

The daughter of the host joined him at the rail, the wind ruffling through her hair. It was strange to be on-world where all meteorological phenomena were uncalculated. Even after being on Earth during the wars, feeling the unprompted move of air through spaces made him question where the vents were.

“You look like you are having about as much fun as I am.”

“I don’t know about that Charlie.” Glancing along the line of his shoulder at her, he offered a subtle smile. It felt fake and strange stretching his face - but his trainers at the colony assured him that it read genuine enough when it had to.  “Really I should say Miss Werstein.” At the title the Heiress wrinkled her nose, shaking the respect off like a horse might a fly. “Charlie is fine. I think we know each other enough by now Trowa, to dispense with that much. You wouldn’t want me to call you Diplomat Barton all the time would you?”  

“You might have a bit more fun at my expense if you felt like doing so. I hate it. It feels like a yolk resting on my shoulders and pushing me down a little more every time someone says it.” Rolling his shoulders back Trowa focused on emoting, on sinking into this character. It was one of of the multitude of his faces. If he tried hard enough, if he committed, then he could be anyone. 

“Is it true that you and the Chang boy are together?”

 _Ah._ Inwardly he changed his categorization of her from potential threat to faceless civilian. Not an active threat to his cover, just someone to take into account in his performance.  

“I suppose that you could say that we are? We arrived together didn’t we?” 

“Do you have to be coy because he’s engaged? Or are you two up to something?” 

She shifted categories abruptly. “I’m coy because I do not indulge rumors.“ Sipping his champagne he smiled at her. “I have been known to trade secrets for secrets though.” Leaning in closer to her he peered into the warm darkness of her eyes. “I think you are having fun. Poking at the diplomats. Tell me something interesting and I might share something about myself.” 

Charlie traced a carefully manicured nail around the rim of her glass, chasing the moisture beaded on it and causing the glass to sing. It was crystal then. One of the many indulgences that the family engaged in. “I think that there are a great deal of interests at this gala and not all of them are aligned. And I think that you and the Chang boy should elope. Marriages that are built on business don’t last. You could talk to my mother about that.” 

“That would be impolitic.” Trowa smiled into his glass.

“You don’t seem to be the sort of man that cares too much about politics.” 

“That makes me a rather ineffectual diplomat doesn’t it?” Trowa asked her laughingly. 

“Which is the reason that we travel together.” Appearing as if he had been summoned from the air Wufei stepped to his side. Glancing across him and at the Heiress, Wufei dipped his head in respect. 

“I apologize Miss Werstein. I am required to retrieve my wayward companion. We are being asked for.” 

Bowing at the waist, Trowa beamed apologetically at the Heiress. “I can do nothing in these matters save obey. He is much smarter than me when it comes to these things.” Dismissed, Trowa escorted Wufei through the throng of the crowd, a hand resting on the small of his back. 

Walking through the carefully designed hallways of the manor they passed out into the perfumed gardens. Heritage thyme and basil flourished in small pots near the entryways. The space they had stepped into served as both a decorative space and a disguised hydroponic cultivation area. The soil of the small world that the family had settled into was not hospitable to all of the things that they might eat. Terraforming efforts were ongoing and plagued with setbacks. 

“Do we actually have a destination?” Trowa matched his pace to Wufei’s, strolling through the plants and the shadowed spaces outside of the sprawling compound they were slowly retreating from. 

“Eventually.” Meditative, Wufei brushed his fingertips along leaves as they passed. “What did you find out?” 

“It’s like what we thought. There is tension in the gathering. She didn’t give me much more than that. I am going to have to cultivate the contact a bit more before she’ll open up. But I think that she probably will. We know that her mother insisted that she received both deportment training and business education. As it stands now the second kid will inherit because the father’s a bigot, but I would not dismiss her as easily as that.” 

Rumors swirled about the Heiress. That she was the daughter wrought of an affair with a colonial envoy and that her father disputed her claim to the company. Some documents filed strongly suggested he was planning on disinheriting her to pass his wealth to a second bastard son. Charlie’s comment about her mother had not been far off of the mark. Miss Werstein was retired military and the sole daughter of old Terra money - the consolidation of the two powers had allowed for the purchase of the small planet that they currently walked on.  Trowa wondered what angle he would have to push the Heiress at for further information. If she were looking for a lover that would be one path; a friend, a separate one entirely. Whichever would give him the most information was the relationship that he wished to cultivate. 

“Of course she didn’t have anything of substance to say. I couldn’t expect much from some sort of doe-eyed socialite” Wufei’s tone was scathing. “I suppose that she was content to sit and gossip with you like the rest of them?”   

Trowa rolled his eyes at the contempt. “It is that kind of thinking that causes us to lose contacts and valuable intel. Perhaps you might cultivate more of an inclusive worldview.” Dropping his hand from Wufei’s back he let his posture adjust to its default straightness. Slouching caused his neck to ache. If Wufei’s fixation with a dead woman was going to jeopardize their mission he would have to nip this behavior in the bud. 

After deploying for their mission he had helped himself to Wufei’s personnel files with the understanding that Wufei more than likely had done the same. Wartime information from Operation Meteor had been declassified to a certain level of clearance, accompanied by pertinent dossiers regarding the five of them. Having context had never hurt and Wufei was an interesting subject of study: the scion of an isolationist colony. A scholar-turned-warrior with a martyred fiance.

Time had shown that Wufei was willing to grudgingly acknowledge the competence of others. It took unnecessary measures to make that competence known. Women in particular were a problem. Sally Po sprang to mind as a notable exception, but the Heiress was no rebel turned commander. Trowa was not inclined to believe that Charlie Werstein would pass his copilot’s muster. “Maybe even realize that not all women can stand on the pillar that you’ve made for your fiance. They don’t need to. I need your head in the game otherwise we’re going to blow this.” 

Wufei was still like a statue two steps behind him, face as blank as a mannequin’s. The subtle tension along the line of his jaw was the only tell that Trowa could spot. Either Wufei would accept the critique or he would not, it was not something worth waiting over. Continuing down the path, Trowa left him to simmer over what the answer would be. 

*

**[ 5 ]**

 

Wufei let Trowa pass ahead of him into the garden. The admonishment he had been delivered sat burning and heavy in the back of his mind. He had not ever put Meilan anywhere that she did not belong. She had guided his life from the moment she stepped into it to the moment that she had left it. Her hand shaped every action that he took.

The young woman that was likely to serve as one of their informants certainly was not the weakest person that he had ever met, but when put in contrast with the living embodiment of justice there was no comparison to be made.  As canny as Barton could be, and careful as his scrutiny was, some things escaped his notice entirely. Posing as Trowa’s implied lover was not as irksome as Wufei had thought that it would become. The time spent together during the war made it easier for him to be close to Trowa than others that he had been paired with on missions. Winner was a lamb easily led into frenzy, or straight off of a cliff. Yuy was possessed of a cold that only deepened in the stillness between them. Maxwell - well, he was not someone that Wufei wished to be around often. Barton was the only logical choice and it was a good fit. 

The sheer naivety of some of the frontier colonists amused him. Both of them were enshrined in public record. He and Barton were slightly more inconspicuous than Winner or Yuy and yet no one had drawn the connection between their names and their past. After Meteor, there had been a generation of individuals who were named after them. In truth, Yuy had pulled his code-name from a prior revolutionary. Framed in that light it was not so strange that they shared the name of figures encoded into legend. 

“I told him that you two should elope.” 

Turning toward the sound of Charlie Werstein stood in the shadow of one of the long-branched trees at the edge of the garden. The native fauna tended to have long tendrils and vine-like structures rather than reaching up toward the sun. When he had been on Earth there were plants called ‘willows’ and these reminded him a great deal of them. Their leaves fluttered like paper on the dangling vines. 

Folding his arms behind his back, Wufei glanced up at her appraising. “That would not be the sort of thing a gentleman of good breeding does, and dishonorable to boot. I am engaged.” Walking through the curtain of dangling branches, Wufei stepped closer to her. “If we are speaking of things that should happen, shouldn’t you become the head of the company?” You went through the schooling to do it.” 

Charlie watched him with the blank face of a politician. He could see the finishing touches in her posture and the distance that she chose to hold herself at. Dipping her head in the barest show of defeat, she offered a carefully worded reply. “Schooling does not guarantee competence. Nor does it determine succession. I have other dreams.” 

Wufei could hear the carefully packed anger lurking under her assertion. He would not let that stand unanswered. “Then perhaps you should pursue them instead,” he said. 

“One must make moves carefully so as to avoid unnecessary conflict.” Smiling subtly at him, Charlie stepped in close. “I think that they know something is up with the pair of you. Beyond the fact that you have a contentious interpersonal life.” 

Wufei refused to drop cover. “I’m not sure that know what you mean miss Werstein.” Charlie tightened her grip briefly against his bicep and passed through the curtain of branches behind them, leaving them swaying in her wake. If that was the case, they would have to move their timeline up. Turning toward the villa he made a beeline for their quarters. The files slowly downloading since they had been welcomed onto the estate would have to do.

 

 

 **[ 4 ]**  

Sitting on the high-thread count sheets that the domestic staff had so graciously provided them, Trowa slowly picked at the clasps on his cufflinks until they were loose enough to remove. Dropping them with a soft clatter into their box, he rolled his wrists. The fitted pressure of his cuffs reminded him of other cuffs he had worn over time. Loose fitted sleeves felt better but did not look the part. There was only one night that he had woken up in a cold sweat, dreaming about jail cells. Considering the stakes of the mission he felt that was a pretty good count. A number of the missions he had run were fueled purely by adrenaline, caffeine, and fear.

 

Wufei’s entrance into their shared suite was heralded by the whisper of the automated door sliding open. His companion toed out of his shoes at the doorway and left them there, unbuttoning his jacket and hanging it up in the closet near the entryway. 

“We need to move our timeline up,” Wufei said. 

While the assertion was neither out of the blue nor incorrect, Trowa was curious about the events that had prompted it. “What’s changed?” 

“The Heiress knows something beyond what she’s telling us. She intimated that we are suspect. If she knows then it is likely that some of the staff knows as well.” Wufei laid out several switchblades and a small laser-pistol on the duvet from where they had been hidden on his person. Pulling holsters off and laying them out for inspection, he went about methodically undressing from the formal wear of the evening. It had been a stretch to get him to carry any sort of firearm at all - his sensitivities verged toward hand to hand combat. 

Trowa pulled up his computer, starting to run diagnostics on the data-mining they had in progress as well as other endeavors that they had begun since arriving. Depending on the state of completion they might be able to pull this off. A cursory glance along statistics did not appear promising. Decryption was still in-progress - his program indicated the sum total of the files that they had extracted was a meagre three percent. It was not enough to justify an exit when they had secured access of the calibre afforded them. 

The family was in the process of building a paramilitary group. The official reasoning given behind military staffing simply ran that ‘due to increased risk in interstellar cargo traffic, additional security is required.’  Other affiliated colonial families had expressed both their trepidation and displeasure to Preventer HQ. Wyatt Werstein was known to be both merciless in trade-acquisition and formidable in person. He did not tolerate failure nor afford leeway in matters regarding business.

Their orbital-territory butted up against Preventer-controlled space. The Nerbit Asteroid Belt stretched across Werstein supply lanes and arced back into Preventer territory. Testing showed that the asteroids in question were an excellent source of one of the main components required to fabricate Gundanium. While information regarding that ore remained top-secret, some leaks persisted from Meteor’s inception and the collaboration between the Scientists. 

“We aren’t far enough.” Wufei’s voice sounded behind his head and Trowa forced himself to unclench his shoulders from the shift in Wufei’s position. The other man had quiet footfalls - the carpeting of the suite only served to further muffle them. 

“The data agrees with you, and I happen to as well.” Closing his laptop, Trowa glanced up at Wufei. “The question becomes what we do about it. We need access into Wyatt’s personal files. All of the intel we have gathered suggests that the secured terminal in his room is the only place we can do that from.” 

“His room is on a closed-circuit camera. The office in particular is checked on at regular intervals by staff in addition to using biometric locks.” Wufei reported the fact in the same tone as he might use for the weather, rather than a large stumbling block to their plans. “Using subterfuge to get into it will not work.” 

Everything that Charlie had mentioned about hiring and the staffing around the property seemed to indicate that Wyatt was well into his plan to build a standing army. If they had another month to work with, the methods that Trowa had been employing might lead to something fruitful. Copying the footage of the camera would not be an issue, but the Wersteins used an encryption protocol that would not not be cracked in the amount of time that they had to enter into Wyatt’s office. The option left to them then would be brute force. All pieces would need to be in place and a distraction rendered before they broke in and took what they were there for. 

Wufei arranged himself on the bed behind Trowa, tablet resting on his crossed legs. “If they are onto us we should plan for extraction in the next couple of days.” 

“It wouldn’t be unreasonable.” Trowa mused out loud as he browsed the listing of the equipment that they had brought with them. “The comms-satellite that we’ve been working on will be in range tonight. Think we should touch base with Echo?” 

Even alone, prudence dictated careful speech. Lucretzia was an excellent touch-point when they were away. She was one of the few officers that Trowa trusted implicitly. She was a consummate soldier, effective and creative. Beyond that she had a trait that Trowa respected highly in others: deep loyalty. It was one that she and Wufei shared, and one that he never could claim ownership of. From childhood, it had been of the utmost importance that he fit in, that he adjust and assimilate. The chimera-like nature of his personality had been what attracted Dr S to him in the first place. They had agreed that there was a target to be destroyed and a goal to be attained. It had been one of the first times in Trowa’s life that he had stood _for_ something rather than paying attention to his own needs.  

That was why he felt so drawn to Wufei. The burning certainty in him was the antithesis of everything that he was to the core. 

“Yes.” Wufei slid his fingers slowly along the panes of the tablet. Silence, as it so often did, settled down on them like a blanket. The time for action would arrive soon enough.

 **[ 5 ]**  

The gym in the evening was devoid of regular activity. Most of the staff on the property worked on a rotating schedule and dispersed into surrounding areas after their work for the day was complete. What he needed most was space. To move through the base-forms that he had been instructed in at thirteen. It was almost too late for a professional to begin learning to fight - but as with all things, he took the challenge and thrived under it. 

The muscles along his back burned as he stretched the tension of the evening away. For all of his expertise, being surrounded by strangers needled at him. Nothing would be better than having time to dive into a book. An unfinished course of lessons sat on his station at Preventer HQ, awaiting his attention. Were it not for the various emergent catastrophes he would settle in to finish it.

Charlie joined him on his third mile on the treadmill. Stepping onto the machine to his left she started jogging, eventually moving the knob forward to match his speed. The two of them loped along to the mechanical whirring of the equipment. She paced him until he slid the controls down to a slower speed, entering his cool-down. Going a while thereafter she joined him in stretching her legs out. 

“You do not strike me as the sort to be meticulous with exercise.” 

“Assumptions are not the safest way to begin relationships.” 

Running a towel over her face, Charlie shook her head. “You don’t like women.” 

Wufei arched an eyebrow at her. “That is a rather incendiary statement to make, particularly to an acquaintance.” 

“It is one that you would appreciate.” Charlie let the towel dangle from her fingers. She was not wrong about that fact. “You are the sort of person that would prefer truth to convention or rote formality.” 

A bead of sweat slid slowly down Wufei’s back, winding its way between his shoulder-blades. He could trace the motion in his mind, drawing an invisible line along his own skin. “Is your father trying to fabricate Gundanium?” The words slid out of his mouth, riders on horses too fast to catch even if he tried. 

“He is.” Charlie watched him levelly. “Can you prove it?” 

“Depends on who it is that I would need to prove that to, doesn’t it? What you are telling me will ruin your family. Do you have any loyalty?” Pushing her felt as natural as an interrogation carried out in a dimly lit storage closet. Charlie Werstein had changed in his mind to another soldier. This fact was interesting. 

Giving a smile that was entirely crafted of artifice, Charlie dipped her chin to him, a motion designed to let her hair fall in front of her eyes. “Don’t you, Chang Wufei?” 

His gun was in his gym bag. Three steps and a bending motion to get to it. The weapon was distasteful, but sometimes practicality had to be observed before other concerns. “I have an excess of loyalty to things that are worthy of it.” Barton was better at this -- at sticking to a character and not dropping it even if death was sitting across from him and staring directly into his eyes. 

Charlie straightened herself out, wrapping her gym-towel around her shoulders. “There are things going on in this family that I do not approve of. And sometimes one must look outside of the obvious for the answers to complex questions. Do you not find this to be the case?”

Damn this woman and her layers of innuendo and meaning. “I could not say that I do.” The lie felt odd in his mouth. Pulling his hair briefly from its tie and gathering the strands that had escaped during his run, he dipped at the waist. “I have a few things to consider Miss Werstein. We will speak again.” 

“Sooner, rather than later I think.” Charlie rested her hands on her hips. “There are some new hires that are coming in this week and it would be optimal if they did not leave the estate.” That said she clicked a device somewhere along the waistband of her shorts. Wufei could see the glint of something that did not belong on her fitness tracker move beneath her nail. Smart woman.

**[ 4 ]**

 

“We’ll have to get access to the personnel files.” Wufei trailed his fingers along the surface of the pond at the heart of the estate’s orchard. Fish curled lazily under his fingertips. A few brave souls were bold enough to mouth at his fingertips, testing him for edibility.

“Your wish is my command.” Making sure that his tone was all fondness and indulgence Trowa skimmed his fingers over the keys of his laptop.  Flexing his bare toes in the grass, he listened to the pond’s fish swishing around and begging and the background sounds of the active estate during the day. It felt weird not to be combat-ready; but they were masquerading as guests in the long-term. There would be no shoes while walking through the carefully tended lawns. Instead of wearing tac-pants, they lounged in linen trousers and sports shirts. Everything in their luggage had been carefully tailored to hold onto the personas they inhabited. 

Adding another task to his queues he started to probe for public information about the new hires that were incoming. Notation about budgeting allotment for their training and gear started to filter in, illuminating the scope of what the elder Werstein would be using them for. 

“Adding to the ranks of a small army. Want to call in Echo to do a bust on them? Or disrupt their travel plans? Four of nine have mercenary connections that we could plausibly intercept.” 

The discussion about the changing needs of their extraction had gone as long as the secure connection permitted. Noin had an excellent mind for strategy - and they had debated the correct course for over an hour. Eventually the three of them had come to agreement.

“Do it.” Wufei eased himself back onto the sun-soaked brick of the retaining wall for the pond, a slice of his stomach peeking out.

Some of the groundskeepers walked by and Wufei stuck a foot out, his heel landing in Trowa’s lap. Brushing a thumb along the arch, Trowa watched gooseflesh raise over Wufei’s arms. Good to know. Ticklish was not one of the attributes he would have put to his partner, but the proof was sprinkled along his forearms. The adage that strangers were uncomfortable with displays of physical intimacy held true. Instead of coming over to speak, the staff moved on. Kneading fingers slowly into the ball of Wufei’s foot and beginning a proper massage, Trowa grinned at him. “Anything at all that you ask of me.” 

Wufei stretched his other leg out to join the first, ankles crossed in Trowa’s lap. “Do better on the other foot.”  Snorting at him Trowa did his best to comply, tucking the impulse to smooth the hair along Wufei’s arms away where it belonged.

 

 

**[ 4 ]**

 

Word that their communication with Noin was successful came in the fury of Wyatt Wernstein. Face contorted in deep vexation, the compact man stalked through dinner the following evening like a thunderstorm. 

Wufei, true to form and character could not leave such a mood unremarked upon. “Is everything all right sir?” 

Wyatt looked up from his phone, all pretense of propriety at the table abandoned. “What?” 

“I apologize if I was interrupting. You just seem a bit disturbed.” Wufei observed their mark through hooded eyes. 

“It’s nothing some ponce from the core would understand.” Jabbing at his phone, Wyatt continued to text. Clearly used to being the most frightening thing at the table, he did not bother to glance up and gauge the reaction of his staff and those assembled. 

“Try me.” 

Trowa silently relished in the raising tension in the room. Volatile situations were like a storm. The clouds of irritation and anger rolled in on their own time, and then at some point some electron of a comment would spark the lightning strike that would set everything in motion. Wufei was lightning and he was the fury of an incoming storm rolled into a human form. 

The elder Werstein turned and stared at Wufei. “If you must know, some overreaching mercenary group is meddling in my affairs. It is illegal and it is quite expensive.” Biting off each word, Wyatt leaned forward in his chair. A vein on his forehead stood out clearly. The skin over the tendons of his neck stretched taut. 

“I couldn’t imagine that your products are that important that they would require paramilitary interference.” Wufei returned his attention to the salad sitting between his hands, taking a bite and savoring the crunch of the lettuce and other greens from the greenhouse behind the estate. The tension written into some of the serving staff made Trowa uncomfortable - it was not his intention to draw uninvolved parties into Wyatt’s fury. 

“A further illumination of your ignorance, boy.” Wyatt threw his napkin down in his lap and stood up from the table, abandoning the rest of his dinner. “Though I think that you will find that there is a great deal my family does that is of more importance than anyone realizes.”  Taking a call that lit up his phone, he stalked out of the room. 

Charlie sat at her place and watched them, eyes curved into crescents of pure amusement. “You will have to forgive my father. He has a high-strung constitution. Pressures of the business and whatnot.” Holding her empty wine-glass out to one of the servants, she tipped it to Wufei after it had been refilled. “Something we apparently know nothing of.” 

Wufei watched her, blank and amiable as any of the other visiting guests. “Of course. As he said, I could hardly fathom such stresses.” Trowa bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Of all of the times that he could smile, this was the one that it would not be appropriate to do so. 

Catching his partner in one of the empty halls, Trowa pressed in close to speak against his ear. “There are still four people that made it through Echo’s attention. Are we going to do damage control or proceed with the plan?”

Wufei slid arms around his waist, sliding hands into his pockets and glancing edgewise at some of the staff that passed behind them in the hall. They doubled their pace and disappeared quickly around a corner. Pressed up along Trowa’s chest he leaned up to speak, balanced against the wall. “Why not try for both? Their presence irritates me.” 

Trowa’s nose brushed along his, his bangs brushing along one of his temples. “That is something very like you to say, Chang.” Wufei closed the distance, his lips resting cool and smooth against Trowa’s mouth. For just a second Trowa’s mind stilled. All of the plans and elements fell away. Footsteps passed by again, the particular sharp sound of Wyatt’s boots. The man snorted in irritation and disgust, stalking behind them with a muttered disparagement. He felt his pocket shift as Wufei left a small drive in it. Parting, they made their way down the hall. 

* 

Smoothing tape along the line of Wufei’s side to cover the wire under his shirt, Trowa let his fingers linger over the solidity of his ribs. The week had seen continual progression of Wyatt’s plans. Even with the heads-up to HQ other soldiers had been procured to fill in the staffing gaps left by the arrests that Noin had coordinated. Large movements of staff would begin at the end of the week. The data-transfer sat at fifty percent, but fifty was better than the incremental amounts of data they had started with. 

“This is going to be ugly.” Trowa frowned at his equipment. As they had grown and gotten older the guerilla tactics of Meteor seemed less like strategy and more like the acts of insane children. Too many factors in this mission were unstable. The chances of them making it out of the estate were vanishingly small. 

“Then concentrate on the moves that you need to make. An op doesn’t have to be smooth to be effective.” Wufei’s lashes brushed his cheeks. “Of have you lost your nerve, Barton?” 

That was the question of the hour. The answer sat in the calm sitting behind the logistic concerns. It was the calm that allowed violence on a scale that most individuals could only dream of. It was the reason that his hands only shook a little when he stared down the barrel of a gun. “They wouldn’t have paired us if I had.” 

Wufei stood up when his equipment was in place. Wearing a wire and a small body-camera he would transmit any information that he could gain from Wyatt’s study. Trowa’s role in this was simple. Keep them away long enough for Wufei to work. His partner slipped into a shirt long enough to cover the wires, into clothes that would allow them to move when it came time to hustle. All of the pieces were falling into place and all of the distractions were falling away. The mission was simple. The guard would be switching out in another fifteen minutes. Wyatt Werstein was in-atmosphere attending a meeting with some of those he was coordinating with. If everything went well, they got in before the alarms tripped on the office and hopped on the nearest shuttle to get offworld as fast as possible. Ideally they would avoid atmospheric combat. It would not go that well, but one could paralyze themselves trying to plan for things that had not yet happened. 

Knives went into the sheathes on his legs. Two different pistols sat snug in side-holsters on either side of his hips. The jacket over them had been tailored to hide the bulges created by the weapons. Wufei’s hand lighted on his back, straightening out his jacket so that it hung correctly. The heat of his hands seeped through the fabric between them. 

“We are going to do this.” With that kind of certainty, Trowa could imagine no other outcome. 

“Of course.”

Wufei worked fast. Biometric locks could be bypassed but it had to be made to look like system failure. Someone as fastidious as Wyatt Werstein made sure that all of his systems were up to date annually. It meant that the inelegant solution was to get into the wiring and break it. Which meant a hole in the wall and more time than either of them wanted to spend in an open space. It was also the best that they could do without sending out a complex-wide alert. Wrist-deep in wiring and shirt-sleeves dusted with plaster, Wufei’s expression was as focused as Trowa had ever seen it. This was not going to be enough. Numbers and schedules cascaded through his mind. Even if Wufei was fast it would take a few minutes to get through the door. The lock was taking longer than they had budgeted for. They would need a distraction.  Catching his eye, Trowa disappeared down the hall. 

There was a server-room on the floor above. It served as a pass-through for some of the intra-complex surveillance and it housed fuse boxes that powered the side of the building that they were working in. Making it to the door Trowa felt his stomach sink into the floor. The shining face of a bio-lock glimmered in the unassuming light of the hall. That particular precaution had not been in place when they had done their initial surveillance of the complex. 

Faced with a problem and no tools to take it on, Trowa was about to turn when he felt a hand land on his arm. Every nerve in his body lit up in preparation to fight. Either he would have to exert a crushing amount of force or he would have to run. 

Charlie Werstein met his eye through the corner of her own. Silently pressing her palm to the lock the door flashed green. Pressing the handle down for him and holding the door open she paused a moment before continuing down the hall. It was a gift that he could not stop and examine deeply. Ducking into the server room Trowa went to work. Scrambling the surveillance software was the first order of business. It would only work for the side of the complex that this room served; but luck was on their side in that the observed territory extended to the shuttle bay. More that they could obscure their escape route the higher the probability of success would be. 

Sweat saturated his shirt and ran down from his hairline. Even with all of his practice, the moment of action never got easier. His heart remained still but his body could not lie about the danger that it felt acutely. Tension sang through his fingers and pulled his back tight. No two situations were the same even though they shared elements and themes in common. This one more than some carried the unique promise of violence. Wyatt was a violent man who had money and power on his mind. 

The cameras flickered. Status lights flipped into warning-orange. Trowa would simply have to trust that Wufei could get through. Glancing at the clock on the wall he checked against his internal countdown. Five more minutes before the situation became untenable. Slipping out of the room he walked down the hall toward where Wufei was standing. Only to have Wyatt Werstein’s guards rush by him toward the source of the leak. Charlie Werstein brought up the rear. Passing by him she caught his eye and stared. They were compatriots in this, then. Her hand would be on the server-room. However, her authority still commanded the family staff as they bustled through the halls until her status as an accessory was revealed. 

Following along behind the group he brought up the rear as they surrounded Wufei. Guns came up to shoulders and a red constellation of scope-dots glittered on Wufei’s chest. Putting on his best face of surprise and confusion, Trowa stared at his partner, his footfalls bringing up small puffs of plaster. “What’s going on here?” 

Wufei, always brilliant and quick to understand situations dropped the drill that he had in-hand and kicked it free of himself, putting his hands up and on top of his head. His snapped retort was impersonal and cold. “I’m doing what you did not have the guts to.” 

Trowa molded his face into the epitome of shock, and transitioned it through betrayal. “I... thought you were kidding when you said that your family was interested in this area of space. You’re not this kind of person.” The guards looked between them uneasily, not sure whether or not to believe that Trowa was not involved. 

Wufei smirked at him, letting the power of his own persona shine through. “You have no idea what kind of person I am.” 

Trowa turned and stared at the guards and at Charlie. “You should call the police. Or your father. Something. I’m... I’m so sorry.” 

Charlie’s face was unyielding, partially obscured behind the field of her guard’s heads. “We’ll see about that. You’re coming with me while we detain him. Once I’ve gotten in contact with my father we will determine how we move forward from there and who we are handing over to the authorities.” 

Trowa put his hands up as well, the picture of acquiescence. “Of course.”

 

**[ 5 ]**

 

The room that they held him in was too soft to be a proper prison. If he had been solo there was a window that he might make it out of. There was a wall that was thin enough that he was sure he could break through the drywall. If he had access to his bags, there were other distractions that he could create. For a family that was attempting to build a military dictatorship he was severely underwhelmed with their security team. There was of course a cursory grouping of guards outside. 

Flexing his wrists carefully against the zip ties that anchored his hands to the edges of his chair he counted his breaths and waited to see how Barton wanted to play this. He trusted his fellow operative with their safety and the success of the mission. Time and again on Earth Barton’s ability to plan ahead, blend, and play the turncoat had provided them with invaluable information. The look that he had shared with the Werstein girl was not insignificant. Something was going on with Charlie that would work in their favor so he was obliged to keep in-character and not do anything extreme. The want to act burned at him just the same. 

As the guards from outside trickled in, Trowa followed in their wake. The severe expression resting on his face echoed the way he looked when Wufei and Maxwell had been captured by Oz. All that was missing was the olive green and red trim. Time blurred together just slightly and he pressed his palms flat against the smooth wood of the chair beneath him. His palms were sweaty and skidded along the wood. The fabric of his shirt clung to the line of his back. Everything would go as it should. Everything would go as it had to. There was an order to things. Fixing his eyes on Charlie, he watched her for a cue. When Trowa pressed the muzzle of a gun under his chin he jerked involuntarily and cursed himself for his weakness. Feeling the edge of the metal cutting into the skin underneath his jaw, he stared at him. 

Barton regarded in with the imperious fury of a spurned lover. “I can’t believe that you’ve done this. You were the good one. My family sent me with you because we were supposed to be better. How can I forgive you for this?”  He stepped forward into the space between Wufei’s knees. “You had better tell them everything. Who you are working with and what you are doing. Do you know that these men threatened to shoot me?”   

Trowa managed to imbue his indictment with a slight wobble in his voice, as if he were struggling with the subject. One constant of his performances tended to be the level cadence of his voice, but time had allowed him better control at nuance. Wufei could hear the sound of Trowa’s hand tightening on the barrel of the gun, and all of his attention focused onto the miniscule change of pressure that the gun barrel exerted against his skin. 

Charlie stepped forward, not quite reaching out to Barton. “Trowa. I know that you’re angry... but we can let the police handle this -” Whatever else she had been planning to say was cut off by the arrival of three other guards.

One of Charlie’s retinue stared at her in mixed horror and confusion, having appeared in the doorway. “Get all of them. Miss Werstein helping them! Shoot the two if they give you shit but don’t hurt her.” 

The two other guards in the room paused a second too long, looking at one another and their superior in confusion. The pause was long enough to allow Trowa to act. Swivelling where he stood and taking aim, one of the guards went down with a burbling yell. The hole open in his throat guaranteed that he was not long for the world. The other guard was raising his gun as Barton lined up the next shot and Wufei wondered if he would see his partner suffer a similar fate to the man he had just felled. 

Instead of staying in place to be shot, Trowa dropped and kicked a leg out to catch the man’s knee. He wobbled and went down, shortly tackled by Barton. They grappled and the man with the mic in his ear spoke harshly into it, trying to get a shot on Trowa and simultaneously requesting backup. With what they understood of the guard’s routines there would be three others in close enough proximity to get there and make a difference. Charlie elbowed the guard who had delivered the news in the chest, jabbing upward and knocking him in the temple to watch him hit the ground. 

Tapping a button on her own ear-piece Charlie spoke harshly into it, coordinating backup of her own. The man on the floor unconscious. Disentangling himself, Trowa rose and pulled a pair of wire-cutters out of Wufei’s bag. The guards had brought it along and dumped it in the room with him, presumably to be later used as evidence. Wufei sprung into action, free from the cuffs that had attached him to the chair prior. The buzz of feeling the gun’s muzzle under his chin faded slowly. 

Trowa threw a wild glance at Charlie. “You have to come with us.” 

Charlie shook her head, throwing a data-pad to Wufei who caught it. “Absolutely not.” Smiling with too many teeth she shooed them forward. “You two need to go now. There is only so long before they get back in range to do something about us. I have some people within the staff, but not enough to deal with all of my father’s people.” 

Wufei understood the gift they had been given faster than Barton did. “We’ll come back for you.” 

Arching an eyebrow at them, Charlie gave a firm nod. “I expect an extraction plan. Once I leave I’m not coming back and I don’t have anywhere else to go.” 

She was the sort of woman that would do well in the Preventers. Charlie had seen the plans Wyatt put into play and had acted preemptively to stop them. It became increasingly clear to him that she was the likely source of the initial intel that had first come to HQ. Trapped within her family and station there was little that she could have done on her own; but, getting them involved had changed things. 

If things went the way that she had expected, Charlie would take the fall publicly. She was the next head of the company and Wyatt liked power.  She was trusting them to stop Wyatt from moving forward with his militia building. Wyatt was not the sort of man that would own up to the fact that his home had been infiltrated by covert operatives and who would blame any sort of failure on others. He could aim the scandal at Charlie and salvage operations with severe delays. It would cost him though - in time and in bribes. The smart mercenaries that he was working with would jump ship, but some might stay. Those that did could be rounded up by the Preventers. The affront of it was likely to push him to act rashly. If they could catch him in that it would the chance they needed to shut the whole of it down for good. Barring all of that, they could destroy him with the secrets that they had gleaned so long as they kept him from making Charlie a scapegoat. It was a gamble, but Wufei liked the odds. 

He took a few moments to zip-tie the two guards that they had felled. Both had sat up in groggy acquiescence while Trowa worked on untying him. Charlie aiming the gun that Trowa had handed her in their general direction might have had something to do with it. Wufei stared at the man who was now missing his earpiece. “It would be unwise of you to make trouble for her.” 

Raising his eyebrows the guard shook his head empathetically. “If she pays better than her dad I don’t have a fucking thing to say. If she doesn’t, it’s her funeral when he gets back. I ain’t got any part of it one way or the other.” 

Trowa finished with the flight-prep on his tablet and caught Wufei’s eye. “Gotta go.” 

Wufei nodded to Charlie who folded herself into an overstuffed arm-chair with a calm that belied the danger she had put herself in. She inclined her head in return, pulling a phone out and scrolling through contacts. What she did from here was in her hands. Snagging his bag and engaging encryption codes into his programs via Trowa’s hastily borrowed tablet, Wufei followed his partner down the hall. His shoulders ached from being tied and tingling numbness lanced up his leg.  However, jogging down the halls with Barton Wufei felt joy ringing through every fiber of him. They had this mission in the bag. As long as they escaped the atmosphere it would be a done situation. It would be regrettable if Charlie were to die, but the tracking program that he had left in the compound’s main security systems would ensure that they had a way to pin it on Wyatt as well. If he tried to claim a political assassination, they would have proof of her murder to bring to court. 

The hangar was empty. The noise of their footsteps flew around almost as sharply as bullets in the emptiness. The bulk of compound security had rushed into the house rather than staying and watching their point of escape. It was not completely unexpected - the vessel that they had flown in on was housed in the main landing area of the compound. This ancillary space was used mainly by couriers. It had not been marked on the maps that had initially been provided to the pair of them, but data-tapping had uncovered it. Trowa had earmarked a ship used to carry industrial equipment as their escape vessel. It was a sturdy thing - and by his partner’s reasoning - more likely to stand up to in-atmosphere turbulence. Ground-fire from the compound had been a more pressing concern than speed. None of Wyatt’s personal suits had been feasible to steal, so they were left with an option of stealth and luck. It was not the first time that Wufei had relied on them, nor would it likely be the last. 

“You disabled the compound security right?” Trowa slid into the pilot’s seat smoothly, hauling the safety restraints over his shoulders and clicking them into place. Jamming the button to begin the startup sequence, Wufei nodded. That Barton would doubt him was irritating, but that he was thorough enough to ask about it redeemed him. Gravity pressed him into the giving fabric of the seats and the engines hummed around them. The artificial systems would not kick into place until they were out in stellar space rather than atmosphere-bound. 

Keeping his eyes pressed firmly to sensors, Wufei let the quiet of the cockpit wash over him. Angry red lines stung where the zip-ties bit into his wrists and the phantom sensation of the cold metal of the gun was a tangible whisper on his chin. Once they had escaped the colony-world’s exosphere he let the terrible focus that slipped over his mind slip away.  Barton stayed still at his side, attentive to all things as always. 

“So. That went well. Neither of us got shot.” As the words slid free into the silence, Wufei watched the reflected light of the monitors shimmer in his eyes. Trowa was watching him through his hair with fingers pursed on the sensors that he controlled. 

“Could have been better.” There could be no improvement if one refused to acknowledge mistakes that had been made. Documentation and debriefing requests were already coming in from Noin. “I hope that the Werstein heir is all right.” 

“Heiress.” Trowa corrected him absently and Wufei flapped a hand at him. 

“There is no distinction to be made. She is clearly the only worthy heir to the business and so therefore she is the heir. Whether or not she is a woman is irrelevant to her skill and strength.”  In the spirit of camaraderie he chose to ignore the subtle incline of Barton’s brow. It was akin to a shout of shock and awe. Smiling to himself, Wufei put his attention to the coordinate-mapping process and the business of getting their superior in the loop.

 

**[ 4 ]**

A few hours away from the Werstein’s home, Trowa began his journey back to sleeping quarters. He and Wufei would alternate positions at the helm until they were back in Preventer secured space. Footsteps sounded behind him and then things shifted. The presence of a gun under his chin was as unexpected as the sudden arrival of a third person on the ship might have been. There was no thought to the timeline or the logic of the intruding object’s presence. Trowa’s hands moved and weight slotted into his palm. Wufei’s body bumped and rustled against his. The heat of his breath slid against his throat. When the kinetic storm of the pair of them settled, Wufei was settled against the wall of the ship, wild-eyed and still.

Like the weight of something inexorable, the gun was in Trowa’s hand. The rough texture of the grip bit into his palm. Against his forefinger, the weight of the trigger was deceptively solid. Experience told him how easy it would be to push and feel the kick of the weapon jostling his wrist, and to hear the report sound out loud in an enclosed space. His nerves felt alight and there was a particular tension winding between them like a wire being pulled close to the edge of its tensile strength. 

“Don’t point weapons at me.” Trowa’s voice surprised him, coming out breathy. What surprised him further was his disturbance at Wufei’s actions. Somewhere along the way it had become out of the question that Wufei would not act in his best interests. In Trowa’s mind, Wufei was a trusted agent, and no longer simply a fellow soldier. Years of training and lived experience had drilled into him that strangers were not to be trusted. Despite everything and all of that Wufei stood inside of his guard, metaphorically and physically. 

Wufei watched him through half-lidded eyes. “Don’t like it so much when you aren’t the one doing the pointing?”  The tone did not match the question. Trowa expected anger, not the sort of detached idleness that he was presented with. Wufei continued. “Because I can take that, Barton. I don’t care if there are guns pointed at me.”   

Trowa watched mesmerized as Wufei’s eyes closed fully, the ink black of his lashes settling against his cheeks. Wufei’s lips parted slightly, a shimmer of moisture visible on the edge of them visible after he licked them. “I think...” Trowa trailed off. 

This close he could smell the slight musk of Wufei’s skin. It was not a leap in logic to lean forward and brush his lips along the line of Wufei’s cheek.  Brushing his mouth along the little hollow of Wufei’s ear, he spoke close. “I think that you like it. And that you are reckless.”  Pressing a kiss against the soft skin just at Wufei’s temple, he stepped in close. Wufei parted his legs, allowing Trowa into his space. They were close enough that a half step would press their chests together flush and the tiny distance was charged. The hand holding the gun remained still, his finger steady against the trigger guard rather than the trigger proper. Oil and the astringent scent of solvent mixed together with sweat and shampoo. It was the stuff that the staff at the Werstein estate had provided and nothing that Wufei would have picked normally. 

Reaching up with his free hand, Trowa traced a thumb along Wufei’s jaw, fingers brushing back until they met his companion’s hairline. Wufei had gorgeous hair. It was seldom down and Trowa felt that fact to be lamentable. Slipping the tie on it free, he smiled at the feeling of the warm weight of it tickling along his palm. Running his fingers through it once, he fisted his hand in it and pulled back. Air escaped Wufei in a rush and Trowa could feel his pleased shudder. Following the pressure on his hair. Wufei leaned back. In normal circumstances Trowa could not imagine a single scenario where his spitfire copilot would willingly bear his throat to anyone. This was not the sort of situation that he ever could have predicted; and in a way that was very typical of Wufei. He did things on his own terms and time without asking permission of anyone. 

Between breaths Trowa took a moment to map out the state of Wufei. There was a quiet to him that Trowa almost never observed outside of study. Color sat high on his cheeks and splashed over the tips of his ears. Flush splashed down the line of his throat and disappeared into his shirt hem. The tent in his pants was tactilely obvious. Trowa had him in his hands, for reasons that Wufei either would or would not divulge later. If a question passed his lips it would break the strange spell and then it would all fall apart. 

Really then the answer was simple. He had a gun. 

When someone pointed at a gun at you, really it was in your best interest to do what they said. 

“Get my zipper.” 

Wufei’s hand crossed the distance between them. His eyes stayed closed and there was a moment of teasing pressure over the half-stock he had started sporting before Wufei’s thumb caught the button. A quick shuffling of fabric later and his fly was open, the teasing warmth of Wufei’s hand radiating through the thin fabric of his shorts. The pressure was too light and Trowa resisted the urge to rock into Wufei’s fingertips. He had the gun, he was in charge. 

“Now get yours.” Tightening his hand in Wufei’s hair, he watched the corners of his eyes bunch. Wufei brought his hands to the button on his own garment, slowly teasing the zipper down, careful of his more robust erection. Trowa lingered on the progression of the zipper, the sounds of the teeth parting almost pornographic. Every texture and sound felt amplified between them. There was a damp spot on Wufei’s shorts where precome had dewed up and soaked through the fabric. Swallowing thickly, Trowa put aside the fleeting impulse to get Wufei in his mouth. 

Instead he crossed the gap between them, rubbing his hips along Wufei’s. The cotton of their undergarments was a hindrance and one final shield between something that felt like a precipice. The friction between them felt electric, and pleasure gathered in focus at the point where their bodies mixed. Wufei groaned softly, the sound almost able to be mistaken for a sigh. 

Releasing Wufei’s hair Trowa captured his hip and jerked him close, rocking and grinding against the hard and warm weight of him. Wufei braced his shoulders against the wall and pulled Trowa up close to him, rolling his hips up again and again, the cadence of his movements fast and insistent. Trowa watched the line of his mouth as it slowly fell into an ‘o’. The pressure and insistence built up between them, and Trowa thrust roughly, chasing a release from all of the pressure and the hot, tight feeling of wanting centered right around his dick. 

The hand holding the gun trembled and Trowa made damn sure that his finger was nowhere near the trigger. Control was one of his finest attributes but he felt it slipping. Looking at the divot that the barrel made in Wufei’s throat excited him. The increasingly fast cadence of Wufei’s breath spurred him on.  Trowa could see Wufei gone away, lost in the sensations riding them both.

This was power. 

Pressing the safety on the gun he stuck it in a back pocket, ignoring the disembodied voices of every trainer that he had ever known crying out in the back of his head. Reaching around he kneaded his fingers into the taut muscle of Wufei’s ass, rubbing and rolling his hips in a complementary rhythm to his partner’s movements. It felt furtive, it felt raw. Wufei’s breath stuttered harder, One, two, three more thrusts and Wufei let himself come, all of his body going tight and tense, and warm stickiness seeping through his shorts. 

Trowa pressed against him, thrusting sharply before letting himself go as well. 

For a moment he stood braced against the wall, resting on his forearm with his forehead pressed against Wufei’s shoulder. For his part Wufei was still, hands resting against his sides and his head tilted back to rest against the wall. Then, he raised a hand and brought it up to rest on Trowa’s back. Brushing slow circles over the base of his spine, Wufei brought his head forward to mirror Trowa’s settled position. 

“We should get a shower and get out of these clothes.” Wufei patted his hip and nodded. Waiting until Trowa pushed free of him and the wall he followed as Trowa made his way back to the cleansing station. 

The ship was not designed for long-haul missions so it was not a luxurious experience by any stretch of the imagination. However, the sense of remove that Wufei always broadcast to the general public no longer stood in between them. Stepping out of the shower Wufei leaned against the sink. He was a man that was confident in his body and acted once he had determined the correct course of action. Trowa never had been the sort to possess such certainty. 

“Is that going to happen again?” Getting a towel he stepped over to take the remaining space at Wufei’s side. 

Wufei glanced over, calm and appraising. “Do you want it to?” 

Trowa let himself smile in a way that felt natural. That meant it was a small thing turning just the edge of his mouth up. “It was intense. Exciting. I wouldn’t be opposed. But there are other ways that I would want it to go down I think.” 

Wufei inclined his head, listening very deeply as he was wont to do. “Then... I suppose there is nothing for it but to see how that works. You and I work well together, Barton. I want to keep that.”  Trowa bit the inside of his mouth to keep from grinning. Something like delight bubbled just behind his ribs. 

“I want that too.”

 

**[ 5 ]**

 

When Wufei next saw Charlie Werstein it was not on the news. She was not on trial for mercenary activities, nor were they looking for her body. Instead, Wufei saw Charlie Werstein as he was walking down the halls of one of the Preventers ancillary sites. His uniform felt crisp and correct, and Trowa walked at his side while scrolling through a tablet. They would be heading out on a mission again within hours and there was one more briefing to attend. 

The touch on his shoulder made him bristle and he drew up to his full height to reprimand the recruit who felt it was intelligent to touch a superior without a very important reason to do so. Instead of seeing some fresh-faced colony boy, a pair of familiar dark eyes looked at him. 

“Thanks for the extraction.” 

Wufei nodded. “We keep our word.” 

Charlie rocked on her heels. “Good to know it. My superiors say that I’m going to have to go through basic and there are some other things that I’ll need catch-up on, but that I will be an asset. So. Thanks. I think I’m going to find something good to do here.” 

“Better than where you were.” Trowa spoke up at his side, the alter-ego gone from his mannerism. Charlie watched him and nodded. “I think I definitely agree.” An alert went off on her wrist-com and she grinned sheepishly. “ I have to go. Thank you again for all of your help.” 

Turning to go, she caught Wufei’s eye. “I still say you should elope.”  With a flash of teeth and a soft laugh she disappeared into the bustle of the hallway. 

Wufei snorted, lightly brushing his shoulder against Trowa’s.

 


End file.
